


All That Matters

by icoulddothisallday



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Reunion Sex, Schmoop, Slight Body Dysphoria, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 18:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10039361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icoulddothisallday/pseuds/icoulddothisallday
Summary: “God, I missed you so bad Stevie - “ Bucky gasps into Steve’s mouth. His warm, familiar hands run up Steve’s body. “Gotta get this off, c’mon, I need’ta see you, lemme see.”





	

It takes them a day and half to walk back to camp, and Steve feels needed everywhere, by soldiers who are used to orders, by the injured, by those who need a bit of a pep talk. He tells himself that he’s not avoiding Bucky, that he’s not afraid of what Bucky might say or do or think, but he knows that he’s lying to himself. 

Bucky has been everything to Steve for most of his life. Steve had been a lonely, angry kid until Bucky came bouncing into his life, full of joy and sunshine. Nothing about their relationship has ever been standard or easy. But Bucky is everything that Steve has left in the world, everything good and solid and he is dreadfully afraid that Bucky will look at him now and not want him in all the ways that matter the most. 

Maybe Steve’s body is too big now, too much like a fella and not enough like a dame. He’d never told those worries to Bucky before, the thoughts that maybe Bucky could only stand to be with him because of Steve’s slimness and frailty, that maybe all the things Steve hated most about his body were the only reasons Bucky could be attracted to it. It hadn’t mattered before, because Steve loved Bucky and loved being with Bucky and would take him whatever way he could get him. Now it’s different. If the things he worries are true - if Bucky isn’t attracted to his overwhelming  _ maleness _ \- Steve doesn’t know if he can handle that. 

They don’t get to talk ‘til that night, after Bucky’s been debriefed by an unfamiliar, brusque SSR agent. Steve stands outside and tries not to listen as Bucky quietly lists the tortures he endured while Steve had makeup and tights on. 

Steve’s been given his own room in the barracks, but he’s never slept well without Bucky nearby, so he has it set up for two. They leave the main office together. Steve’s heart pounds as he categorizes all the ways that Bucky is different too. 

The natural swagger of his steps is gone and his face lacks its usual charm and confidence. None of it is his Bucky and Steve remembers finding him, his serial number falling from his lips over and over, strapped down, and everything in Steve hurts. He waits until they’re inside the room and the door is firmly latched before he can no longer help himself and he gathers Bucky into his arms. Bucky meets him there and then they’re kissing like they need it to breathe, like there might be no tomorrow, like they’ve been missing a part of themselves and are just trying to become whole again because that’s how it is with them, how it has always been with them, always drawn together like magnets. Steve has always known that in the eyes of most, this is a sin, but he could never bring himself to care. He will gladly go to hell for Bucky, a hundred times over. That has never been a question. Loving Bucky is worth everything. 

Bucky’s hands run up his side wonderingly, hesitantly and Steve almost doesn’t dare to touch back, aware of his superhuman strength, the way he can hurt with one touch. 

“God, Stevie…” Bucky whispers, drawing back and looking at him with careful eyes. Steve feels naked, exposed, and smaller than he’s ever felt in his whole goddam life. “Look at you.”

“Is it alright?” Steve asks, before he can stop the dreadfully insecure question from leaving his lips. Bucky stiffens and snaps his gaze to meet Steve’s. His eyebrows crease into a vee over his stormy eyes and Steve waits for condemnation. 

“Is it  _ alright? _ ” Bucky mimics, studying Steve intently. “What d’ya mean is it -.” 

Bucky’s lips fall into a twisted frown and Steve hastily tries to explain himself. 

“I’m different, I mean, I’d understand if you didn’t want - I don’t look anything like I usta’.” 

“Steve -  _ Stevie _ , sugar -” Bucky tries to interrupt, but Steve has to get this out. He has to  _ know _ , for sure, that Bucky isn’t just - just puttin’ up with it.  

“I know I’m not little no more, don’t look like a dame -”

Bucky’s voice is stern, this time. “You didn’t ever look like a dame, Steve.”

Steve just shrugs, keeps his gaze fixed on the ground. 

“I wasn’t ever with you cause you looked like a dame,” Bucky’s voice drops low and Steve shudders, just a little. The tone is familiar, coils around his spine and pools in his belly. “I’m with you cause you’re the strongest person I know, and fuckin’ gorgeous, and I love you, y’goddam punk.” 

Steve never has the right words, so he just lunges forwards, catches Bucky’s lips with his. “Love you too.”

“God, I missed you so bad  _ Stevie -  _ “ Bucky gasps into Steve’s mouth. His warm, familiar hands run up Steve’s body. “Gotta get this off, c’mon, I need’ta see you, lemme see.”

Steve’s wearing his dress uniform, all pinned and pressed to be paraded in front of the officers. They’ve officially promoted him to Captain, despite his total lack of training or experience, and Steve isn’t quite sure what to make of his new rank. He’s frightened and flattered and apalled and so completely out of his depth. He tries to put the overwhelming fear of  _ tomorrow  _ out of his mind. He’s here with Bucky and that’s all that matters. It’s all that ever mattered. 

Bucky slides the dress jacket off, hands pressed close to the starched fabric of the olive shirt. His hands, so familiar, but strange on this new body, linger on his wide shoulders, drift wonderingly over Steve’s biceps. 

“Jeez,” Bucky mumbles, fumbling with the buttons on Steve’s dress shirt. Steve’s hands land on Bucky’s hips - they feel slim, almost breakable under his massive hands. They’d always felt so  _ solid  _ before, strong and hard under his palms. The difference scares him. Bucky’s been hurt enough. Steve would never forgive himself if he hurt Bucky. And he could, he could break bones if he squeezed too hard or rough housed like they usta, as they tumbled into bed. He’s gonna havta be careful, gentle. 

Bucky’s lips fall to the hollow between Steve’s collarbones, pressing a soft kiss and then swirling his tongue. Steve groans, hands clenching onto Bucky. He lets go a moment later, afraid he’s hurting. Bucky pushes his shirt back off Steve’s shoulders and tilts his head. He puts his ear over Steve’s heart and closes his eyes. 

They’ve done this a hundred, a thousand times, usually when Steve had been sick or in a fight and Bucky would just listen to the irregular rhythm of Steve’s heart, the crunch and rasp of his faulty lungs, needing the reassurance that Steve was  _ there _ , that he was  _ alive.  _

“Listen to you Stevie - it’s a miracle, you’re a miracle - this,” Bucky looks up at him - which is a whole other thing Steve has to get used to - blue eyes pooling with tears. “Steve, you’re healthy - your heart, it’s...” 

Steve swallows hard. “Yeah, it’s all - I mean. It fixed everything.” It’s not something he’s completely processed yet. He’s lived most of his life knowing it was unlikely he’d make it past thirty. It could have been his weak heart or his shitty lungs, his nonexistent immune system. Any of that coulda killed him, shoulda killed him. This body is healthy, so healthy Steve’s never quite sure what to do with it. 

Bucky beams, hands going to fumble with the rest of the buttons on Steve’s shirt. “How could I not love that, Stevie? You could look like anything, as long as you’re healthy. And fuck, I mean lookat you! You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Steve blushes, the same as he always has, the pink travelling down his chest. Bucky gives a lecherous grin. “Didya get bigger everywhere, punk?” 

“Bucky!” Steve hisses, closing his eyes. 

“What? Am I not allowed to ask - I mean, you were always hung, so -” Bucky’s messing with his belt buckle now. His fingers keep grazing Steve’s trapped erection. Steve groans. He’s so much more sensitive now. It usta be hard to get him going, now it seems like anything will do it. And he can keep going all fucking night, if he wants. He hasn’t tested his limits, but knows he can pop three off easy. “Didya touch yourself, after? Can’t see how you could have not -” Bucky hisses in a deep breath as he pulls Steve’s pants down. 

Steve blushes even hotter, looks down his body, knowing what he’ll find. His dick is straining at the fabric of his army-issued shorts, the tip already leaking. Bucky licks his lips, can’t seem to take his eyes off of it. Steve can’t take his eyes off Bucky. 

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes, eyes wide with desire. “You’re gonna be proddin’ at my kidneys with that thing,” he lowers a hand to touch it and Steve arches into the tentative touch, whimpering. He’s been dreaming of this, long nights on the road. There’d been plenty of offers, from the girls, but Steve only wanted Bucky. Bucky’s body and Bucky’s touch and Bucky’s words and Bucky’s love. Bucky’s it for him. He’s known that since he was fifteen. “Steve,” Bucky’s voice has gone low and deep, almost reverent. “Can I…?”

“Not gonna last hardly at all,” Steve warns, “Serum -.” He’s going to explain but the Bucky’s mouth is on him and Steve can’t come up with any words.  Bucky’s mouth is every bit as hot and perfect as Steve remembers. Bucky chokes on Steve’s cock and backs off, licks and kisses at the head, swirls his tongue wetly around the slit. 

Steve muffles a moan. 

“Taste just the same,” Bucky whispers as he comes up for air, “perfect, fuck, sugar, you’re perfect.”

Steve’s body reverberates with the praise and he tugs Bucky up into a kiss, licking the taste of himself out of Bucky’s mouth until Bucky’s all that’s left. Bucky presses him backwards and Steve lets him. It isn’t like it usta be. Steve could resist, if he wanted, but he doesn’t and his knees hit the low camp bed. He sits. 

Bucky towers over him, just like he used to. 

“Bucky,” Steve whimpers. “Bucky, _ please _ .” He doesn’t know what he needs beyond Bucky, closer. He starts working the buttons of Bucky’s shirts open, revealing familiar skin. There’s more muscle now, more scars, and Steve traces each new mark with his tongue. Bucky moans and whimpers and each noise feels like it’s hardwired to his cock. 

Steve thinks he could come from this, just from pleasing Bucky. Bucky shoves off his pants and shorts in a hurry, presses all that naked skin close and Steve has to close his eyes for the relief of it. He’d been so afraid, for so many reasons, that he’d never get to have Bucky this close again. Bucky drops to his knees, noses at the skin of Steve’s belly. He lays wet, open mouthed kisses on Steve, slowly inching his way back to Steve’s cock. 

Bucky gives it to him the way he knows Steve likes it and it feel a hundred times better than it ever did before, every nerve lit up. Everything is so much  _ more _ now, every feeling a hundred times stronger. 

“Bucky - gonna,” Steve moans out, fists clutching at Bucky’s shoulders. 

“Mmhmm.” The hum sends Steve over the edge. Like everything, it’s more now than it was before and Bucky chokes on it, cum dribbles over his lip and down his chin as he looks up at Steve with dark eyes. Steve can see every eyelash, every nuance of color in his iris, and it’s like he’s falling in love all over again. He couldn’t have seen all that before. It’s like he’s seeing Bucky all over again, discovering a hundred new things. “Jeez,” Bucky hisses as he pulls back, wiping cum off his chin. “You’ve never come that easy in your life.”

“The serum,” Steve explains again, a fierce blush rising on his cheeks. He looks down at his mostly still hard dick. “Uhm, I’ll be ready to go again quick, too.” Bucky’s eyes go darker and he lifts a teasing eyebrow at Steve. 

“Is that right? How’d you figure that out, hmm? Did you touch yourself, after, all night long?” Steve blushes even deeper. It hadn’t been the first thing he’d done, of course, not with everything, but during those nights on the road - whenever he had some privacy, of course he’d touched his new body. At first, it had almost been like touching someone else - or like someone else was touching him, each sensation unfamiliar and startling. 

“Yes,” he murmurs back to Bucky, knowing how hot it gets Bucky when Steve tries to talk dirty. “It all felt so different, so much has changed.”

“What did’ya think about,” Bucky asks, rising to his feet. Steve helps Bucky shuck his pants with trembling hands. He’s missed him so much, with every ounce of this new body, and to have him close again hardly feels real. 

“You,” Steve says as he presses kisses to Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s body has changed too. He’s too skinny, muscles lean and wiry, and there’s hardly any fat on him. Bucky had always been a little soft, before. His family had more money than Steve’s, and it kept them fed even when Steve and his ma were lining up at soup kitchens. Steve wants to cook Bucky’s favorites, wants to put the softness back. “Always you.”

There are new scars, too, a history of blood and pain that Steve wasn’t there for. Some scars he recognizes - the one of his arm from when Steve dared him to climb the fire escape up to Mr. O’Connor’s place, another on his chin from he pulled Steve out of yet another fight. 

They are both remade, Steve realizes with a sudden clarity. The year they were apart might as well have been a lifetime for all the changes wrought. And yet - some things stay exactly the same. 

“I stood in front of the mirror,” Steve confesses. 

“Hmm?” Bucky hums as Steve slides his too big hands up Bucky’s sides. 

“The first time - I - y’know. And just - looked.”

“Fuck, that’s hot Stevie, fucking hot.” Bucky settles next to Steve on the bed, eye hot on him and Steve feels seen for the first time since he stepped out of the machine, changed. “God, I need you. Can I - I needta get  _ in  _ you, Stevie.”

Steve’s breath whooshes out of him, somehow surprised that Bucky still wants that, even though he’s not little or delicate or girly anymore. Bucky had been insatiable, before, and they'd always been held back by what Steve's body could and couldn't do. Some days Steve felt like he really had nothing to offer Bucky. There were days where he couldn't work or clean or even kiss Bucky without getting breathless. Steve always got so frustrated and Bucky was always so understanding. 

Not anymore. 

"Yes, god, yes, please, Bucky," Steve whispers, hauling him closer, pressing long, deep kisses onto his lips. "Just need ya' close." Bucky pushes him back against the bed, stands and looks down at Steve's body. There is a hunger and lust and fire in his eyes and Steve blushes and burns and preens under the attention. He ignores the urge to cover up as Bucky looks and looks and looks. Eventually, their eyes meet again. 

"You're perfect, Stevie. So goddamn perfect." Steve blushes all the brighter, can't handle the adoration in Bucky's voice. The worries that Bucky wouldn’t want him no more are disappearing, trickling away, and he’s so glad. So much has changed. The entire landscape of the world has changed, and yet, this is the same. He and Bucky against the world. 

"There's vaseline in my kit," he murmurs instead. Bucky smirks. He knows Steve's game, but he goes for the slick all the same. Once he's got it in hand, he lowers himself down on top of Steve. The sensation is brand new and familiar all at the same time and it's wonderful. The warmth of Bucky's skin pressed close is more familiar than any part of Steve's new body. The thump of Bucky's heartbeat, the rough patch on Bucky's hip from a childhood scar, the rasp of Bucky's stubble on Steve's face - all these things are more familiar than breathing to Steve. Bucky's hands wander over Steve's skin and they are just the same as they have always been. 

But Steve has known Bucky's hands a hundred times over - when they were just children, Bucky dusting Steve off after a fight. Or later, when Bucky held a handkerchief to a bloody nose. And then, those first awkward fumblings in their teenage years, as they learned how to touch each other and how they, themselves, liked to be touched. 

Bucky's hands remember it all. Bucky tweaks Steve's nipple, sucks on the other one and Steve gasps and moans. Each sensation is so much more than it ever used to be, it feels like he’s never been touched before. His body is starved for it. Bucky licks down the new folds and lines of Steve's body, touches Steve in every way he's ever liked to be touched. 

"Bucky," Steve moans as Bucky's careful fingers drift softly over his dick and balls. Bucky looks up at him from under his lashes, grins. 

"Never thought I'd get this again, Stevie, I swear. Been thinkin' about it all the time, how good you feel, sugar. Wasn't like the others - couldn't talk about my dame at home, couldn't find a dame to pass the time til I got home again."

"You didn't ever think - y'know, it would have been okay," Steve mumbles. "Never want ya' t'be lonely, Buck."

"Aw, Stevie. I don't want anyone but you. But wasn't there anybody who tempted your eye? One of those showgirls you travelled with?" There's a familiar, possessive edge to Bucky's voice that sends a wonderful little thrill down Steve's spine. Steve never minded sharing Bucky too much. Bucky always came home to him, at the end of the night. And it was necessary, to avoid the rumors. People in their neighborhood knew, causa' where they lived and all, and some of their friends, the ones from the bars they frequented when they could. But Bucky still had to keep up appearances for him family and his coworkers and just - for anyone who might try to peek into their lives, anyone who might not understand. So it was alright, that Bucky went out with girls at night and came home smelling like cheap perfume and whiskey. 

But Bucky never tolerated it, the other way 'round. He  _ tried.  _ He didn't want to be jealous or possessive, he promised Steve a hundred times over, but he couldn't stand the idea of Steve being out there with someone else. It didn't matter much, really. There weren't many girls interested in Steve and while there were some men who were, Steve barely had enough energy to keep up with Bucky, most days. 

"Always just you," Steve assures, watching the dark satisfaction creep across Bucky's face. "Never anybody but you."

"Fuck, Stevie," Bucky swears, swirling his finger around Steve's hole. Steve hisses and arches into the contact. It's been too long. He'd awkwardly fingered himself, a coupla times, but it wasn't the same. He never had the time or energy or privacy to do it right and his fingers felt too big and clumsy. Bucky's fingers would be just right, like they always were. Bucky's finger disappears a moment, comes back covered in vaseline. 

Bucky touches him like he's always touched him, just the right side of gentle. Not so gentle that Steve felt babied or inadequate, but gentle enough that even Steve's old body could handle it. Steve knows that this new body can be touched with a lot more force - that sex could be rough and fast, if that's the way he wanted it. And it thrills him, to think of exploring that with Bucky, but right now he needs Bucky to touch him the way he's always touched him, needs to know that nothing has changed between them. 

"Please," he whimpers. "More." Bucky slides his first finger into his knuckle, stormy eyes fixed on Steve's face as he watches for any sign of discomfort or displeasure. Steve shifts his hips. It really has been a long time and his muscles are tight and strong. Bucky holds perfectly still while he waits for Steve to adjust. Steve rocks back onto Bucky's finger, just to see the widening of Bucky's pupils, the way his perfect mouth drops open just a little. 

Bucky dives in to kiss him again and Steve pushes up into it, licking into Bucky's mouth the way Bucky's finger is sliding into him. His heart pounds - but so steadily, not in a way that will make them stop, that will make Bucky worry. And if Steve's breath comes a little faster, that's okay now too. Bucky brings a second finger up, stroking the ring of tight muscle gently, a question in his eyes as he looks down at Steve. 

Steve nods, whines a little as Bucky's middle finger slides into him. Bucky's fingers feel just the same - thick and callused and soft. Bucky twists his wrist and crooks his fingers in a way that usually has Steve moaning, but things must have moved around a little, because while it feels good, it's not what either of them are expecting. 

Bucky gets a determined look on his face and Steve laughs for the sheer joy and familiarity of it. Steve has known that expression all his life - has seen it when there wasn't enough food or when the nuns said Steve wouldn't finish seventh grade with the rest of them, or when the doctors said Steve wouldn't survive the most recent bout of pneumonia. 

And yes, he saw it the first time he and Bucky kissed, the first time they explored each other's bodies. 

Bucky takes Steve's pleasure seriously and it makes Steve smile like the lovesick fool he is. 

"Stupid punk," Bucky mumbles into his lips and Steve can't help the little laugh that follows. The happiness bubbles through him, the sheer relief of being here with Bucky when he never thought he'd ever get to ever again. Bucky pushes his fingers a little deeper and Steve's breath hitches. Bucky's finger crook and twist and rub gently at his walls and it feels amazing, but Steve can tell Bucky is getting impatient, wants to find the little bundle of nerves that drives Steve absolutely crazy. 

"S'okay," Steve whispers between kisses. "Just need you in me, please, c'mon Buck."

Bucky pulls back, just enough that the can see each other in the dim light of the barrack room. Without warning, Bucky adds a third finger. Steve's hips jerk and heat coils low in his stomach and this body feels it all, every little curve and callous of Bucky's fingers, Bucky's hot breath on his chest, the way Bucky's heart pounds. Bucky fingers him a few minutes longer, but it's not the frantic search of before, just gentle stretching. Somedays, this is all they would do. If they were careful, they could do this for hours. Most things with Steve's body, before, had been over too quick if he came at all. But with this - it was alright if neither of them came, they could just lie there and ride the gentle waves of pleasure, fingering each other open and kissing open mouthed kisses to each other's chest - 

Steve whimpers as Bucky pulls his fingers out. They fumble together a moment, coating Bucky with vaseline. Steve lies back, spreads his legs and watches Bucky watching him. Bucky's eyes are dark, pupils blown so large they take up nearly the whole iris. His cheeks are ruddy with desire. Bucky steadies his cock with one hand, supports his weight with the other, and slowly, slowly pushes in. Steve's body lights up with pleasure, so much more than he had ever felt before and it's so much, it's almost too much, burning and intense and overwhelming and just like that he's coming again. 

Bucky gapes down at him, lips red and slick with kissing, and Steve blushes. He looks away. He feels fifteen again, coming in the first 30 seconds of the first awkward hand job they shared. 

"I - Sorry, the serum, it's so much," Steve tries to explain, licking his lips. 

"Fuck Stevie, don't apologize. Don't ever apologize for that, I don't think I've ever seen anythin' so fuckin' gorgeous in my entire life. I did that? Just by?" 

Steve nods, shy all over again. Bucky ducks down, presses slow, passionate kisses into Steve's mouth until Steve is arching up and moaning for more. Bucky slides home.

And it is. 

It feels like home. 

And that's so stupid, and so sappy, and completely ridiculous, but Steve's body feels so good. Bucky is the assurance that everything will be alright, that Steve doesn't have to be alone, and the physical sensation of Bucky in him? It's the promise that Bucky loves him - loves him enough to risk shame and jail and death and the hatred of all their friends and family and Steve can never ever believe that Bucky chooses to give it to him. 

Steve rocks his hips up to meet Bucky's, feels the heat and length of him inside. "Missed ya'," Steve mumbles, sucking at Bucky's bottom lip. Steve can feel every inch of Bucky, of how hard he is. Any last doubts that Steve has about how Bucky feels about his new body are gone. Steve arches up a little, squeezes the muscles of his abdomen, listens to Bucky hiss. Steve’s gonna be able to do so much more for Bucky now, in so many ways. 

"So much. Fuck, Steve, missed ya more than I could ever say." Bucky hides his face in Steve's shoulder as he pulls in and out, staying to a infuriatingly slow pace. Bucky twists, rocks his hips up and his dick brushes the little bundle of nerves. Steve moans. 

"There it is," Bucky says with satisfaction, repeats the motion. Steve whimpers again, pushing down, into the touch for more pressure, more heat, more anything. "Yeah, sugar, there you go."

For a few moments, they don't exchange any more words, just move their bodies together. And it feels, somehow, like nothing has changed at all. They could be back in Brooklyn, in the quiet of their apartment, just the two of them. Always just the two of them. It doesn't matter that Steve's body is bigger now, or that Bucky has scars that Steve knows nothing about.  Steve sucks a mark into Bucky's shoulder, just below the line of his shirt. It's a risk, it's always a risk to mark him up like that, but Steve likes knowing that Bucky is out in the world with evidence of Steve on him. Steve may not be possessive, not like Bucky is, but he likes knowing that Bucky has a reminder that Steve is waiting for him. 

Bucky's breath hitches. 

And Steve knows every sound that Bucky makes, and that's not one of pleasure. He nudges Bucky's head up, frowns when he sees tears. Bucky always cried easier that Steve, but he'd never cried during sex. 

"Buck? Whassamatter?" 

"I - nothing. God. I'm just so glad you're here. We're fuckin' lucky, y'know, so fuckin' lucky." Steve's face softens. He cups Bucky's familiar jaw in his huge new hand. 

"Yeah," Steve whispers into the hot, sticky air between them. "Yeah we are." 

Bucky kisses him, fierce and loving and desperate and Steve kisses back. 

"Love ya," Bucky mumbles, hips jerking. "Love ya so much, Stevie."

"Love you too," Steve swears, but those words have never been enough to describe how he feels about Bucky. It is love and respect and need and lust and protectiveness and -. A whole part of Steve belongs to Bucky and always will. Steve had been afraid that he'd lose that, when his body changed, and it's a huge relief knowing those worries were unfounded. But it's more than a relief. It's like falling in love all over again. 

They pant and groan into the still air, hips rocking together. Bucky lowers one hand to gently jerk Steve off. And this, too, is so like before. It's reassuring. Because they could never go fast and furious before, and Bucky treats him just the same, and even though Steve usta hate the constraints his body put on him, he's so glad that Bucky isn't treating him like he's a brand new person. 

When Bucky comes, it's like a wave, like a revelation. Steve holds his shuddering frame, whispers promises of love and forever into his ear. Bucky brings him off before he pulls out, just like he always did before, because he knows what it means to Steve to have Bucky this close - inside him. They stay curled together. 

Outside Steve can hear the voices of men talking, of radio transmissions, of some sort of aircraft passing in the distance, of drunken songs. None of it matters, just the feel of Bucky's sweaty body pressed close to him, the smell of his unwashed skin, the familiar rhythm of Bucky's breathing and heart beat, things Steve had tried to match a hundred times, just so he could live one more day. Those are the things that matter. 

_ fin.  _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://icoulddthisallday.tumblr.com/) if that's your thing.


End file.
